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LIBRARY OF.CONGRESS. 

1 , J — 1 — t" \ ( 

§|hp ©xip^rig]^ lu 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



^a9(5l^depi7ym^s: 



BY 

Parker B. Davi 





PORTLAND, ME. 

FORD & RICH, PRINTERS AND PUBLISHERS. 

1889. 







Entered accoidini; to ;im Act of Cmipress, in the yenr iSSg, by 

rAKKl'.K H. DAVIS, 
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. 



INDEX 



Bonny Woods of Maine, 

Maine to Charleston, . - - 

Be in Earnest, 

Fate, - - 

Up or Down, . - 
Year by Year, 

Have an Object, 

Love Among the Angels. 
Sunny Places, 

A Heart Song, 

Uncle Sam's Birthday, 
Does It? - - - 

Ketrospcction. 

Watching the Ships, 

Beecher, - - - - 

Castles in the Air, 

Questionings, 

Duly Three, - 

The Same Old Story, - - - 

Only Lite, 

By the Rio Crande, - - - 

Sheriilan, . . . - - 

A Memory, - - 
Contest Ended, 

Memorial, 

The Wanderer's Tale, 

The Brooklet's Song to the Little Girl, 



3 
5 
7 
9 

12 

•4 
I? 
19 
22 

23 
25 
29 

30 
32 
34 
3(^ 
39 
41 
43 
45 
47 
50 
52 
53 
55 
59 
6S 



^angled -?Kunae£. 



BONNY WOODS OF M A INE 



ll 



oET others sin^ of sunny lands, 

Where sultry breezes blow 
Throuf^h orange trees and olive groves, 

And limped waters How; 
Of fair Italia's sunlit strand. 

Or the vine-clad hills of Spain ; 
liut dearer far than these to me 

Are the bonny woods of Maine. 

Though rough and tangled they may be, 

And bound with ice and snow. 
Yet hearts have here a quicker throb, 

And cheeks a brighter glow ; 
And eyes put on a braver look 

With health in every vein — 
True freedom lives among us here 

Within the woods of Maine. 



TANGLKD RHYMES. 

From where Atlantic casts her foam 

Upon Old Orchard's strand, 
To where Katahdin lifts her head 

Above our forest land, 
Are hearts as true as earth has known. 

And hands without a stain 
That point with joyous pride, today, 

To the grand old woods of Maine. 

And tho gh the wealth of lands remote 

May please the eye the best, 
Yet, oh ! within the woods of Maine, 

' Tis here the heart can rest ; 
And though her sons may wander far, 

By mountain land or plain, 
Their hearts turn back with longing still 

To the bonny woods of Maine. 




TA KQLKl) 11 H 3 'MES. 



MAINE TO CHARLESTON 

[1886.1 



On the south wind comes a murmur, 
(0 To this piny land of ours, 
Bringing us a tale of anguish 

From that sunny land of flowers: 

Telling us that where old ocean 
Rolls her waters full and free, 

Hearts are sad and homes are stricken, 
Down at Charleston by the sea. 

Telling us that famed St. Michael's 
Cloud-bathed head is reeling now, 

While the livid drops of terror 
Stand on many a dusky brow. 

Years ago, when war's first cannon 
pjlazed from out your open gate. 

Then our hearts grew hard and bitter 
With the burning fires of hate : 



TANGLED RHYMES. 

How we longed for northern thunders 
All your sturdy walls to shake ; 

How our guns were manned and mustered 
All your southern pride to break. 

Now, when ruin falls upon you 
With this dire and awful blow, 

All our hearts go out m weeping 
For your hearth-stones smitten low ; 

And we reach a hand unto you, 
O'er the years which intervene, 

O'er the graves of sleeping heroes. 
Blue and gray, which lie between ; 

And from every crag and valley, 

'i'hrough this land so rough and free, 

Prayers go up for God to help you — 
Down at Charleston by the sea. 




TANGLED RHYMES. 



BP: IX EARNEST. 

\F whatever land or nation, 
High or lowly be your station, 
And whatever your occupation, 
Would you mend your situation. 
Be in earnest. 

In the field or forest glen, 
Or among the haunts of men, 
With the sword or with the pen, 
If you fail just try again : — 
})e in earnest. 

Should the work of many years 
Only bring you idle jeers, 
You've no time for foolish tears ; 
Labor on ere night appears : — 
Be in earnest. 

Let each deed and thought be pure. 
And each stepping stone be sure : 
Though temptations may allure, 
Build up work that shall endure : — 
Be in earnest. 



TANGLKl) iniYMKS. 

Do your noblest clay by day — 
Honest work will surely pay : 
Do not waste the time in play, 
Do not dream your life away : — 
V)Q in earnest. 

Dreams are not for wakini; hours- 
Sterner duties need your powers, 
Ere you wait in shady bowers, 
With your feet among the flowers, 
l^e in earnest. 

Never doubt your strength to do : 
If your aims are only true 
This great world is needing you — 
In tile end you'll get your due : 
He in earnest. 

Step from out the idle herd 
And your armor tightly gird : 
Hearts of nations oft are stirred 
\\\ a well-timed deed or word: — 
lie in earnest. 



TA NGLED RHYMES. 



w 



FATE 



E met to-day in the careless throng, 
Clasped hands in a formal way, 

And never a word of ours betrayed 
Thoughts of another day : 

But a glance of the blue eyes spoke to me 

What others could not know, 
And 1 felt your heart go back with mine 

To a day in the long ago. 

A picture rose from out the past 

I know you saw it too, 
That memory swept away the years 
hat hid the scene from view : — 

A woodland path 'mong maples tall, 

A boy and girl together, 
A gleam of blue sky up above, 

The glorious summer weather : 



10 TANGLED EUYMES. 

The blue eyes glancing into his, 
The blushing face so fair, 

The sunlight, checkered by the leaves 
'Mong waves of dark brown hair ; 

The sweet old story told anew. 
While hearts creep close together, 

And birds above repeat the vows 
Of love and trust forever. 

To you, I know that other lips, 
Have told the tale since then ; 

And as for me — well, I've been out 
In the ranks of busy men ; 

And I had thought this past was dead. 
And buried 'mong the years ; 

That never more your eyes had power 
To waken hopes or fears ; 

I've seen today how vain the thought. 

How weak man's strength appears, 
When just a glance from eyes of blue 

Undoes the work of years. 



TANGLED RHYMES. 



11 



Today we stand by the cruel gulf 

That fate has fixed between, 
While a breath of that far-off summer brings 

Mad thoughts of what, "might have been." 




12 TANGLED IIHYMES. 



UP OR DOWN 



ORIEND, you say you're only waiting 
Some more favored time or place ; 
That you're counting all your chances, 
And you mean to win the race ; 

But you never stop to reckon 
That you're on a moving stream, 

With the current flowing downward. 
Where the danger lights are seen ; 

That you cannot stop or linger, 

Though the tempests o'er you frown- 
On the stream of life, my brother, 
You are going up or down. 

If you wait for friendly breezes, 
While you idly lie and dream, 

Oh ! so sad will be your waking — 
For you're floating down the stream. 



TANGLED BHYMES. 13 

When those friendly breezes greet you 

It may be too late for you ; 
For the current's growing stronger, 

And the breakers come in view. 

Now's the time to turn and struggle. 

Would you win a victor's crown, 
You must pull against the current — 

When you drift you're going down. 

Sunny skies and pleasant waters 

Wait to greet you up ahead. 
While the clouds are dark below you. 

And the lightning flashes red : 

Up above sweet flowers are blooming ; 

Down below lost wretches drown — 
On the stream of life, my brother, 

You are going up or down. 



14 TANGLED liHYMES. 



YEAR BY YEAR 



yEAR by year the ^^'orld goes round, 
As it has for countless ages, 
Spite of learning most profound, 
And the wisdom of the sages. 

Year by year, with ceaseless motion. 
Though its friction ought to stop it ; 

'Way up here in space suspended — 
Not a rainbow, e'en, to prop it. 

Year by year it gives us sunshine. 
Year by year some cloudy weather ; 

And, by logic, one must follow. 
Since they cannot come together. 

So, who cares if skies are heavy .? 

They will brighten, never fear : 
Clouds are only prophets, telling 

That a better time is near. 



TANGLED RHYME iS. 15 

Laws of change are fixed by nature, 
Though we know not how it's done : 

No Hfe always runs in shadow, 
Neither always in the sun. 

Griefs are only what Ave're paying 

For the joys that next appear : 
Aching hearts will soon be happy ; 

Smiles will chase away the tear. 

Take the sweets and question never ; 

No use grumbling at the price. 
Or you'll find they're passing from you — 

They are seldom offered twice : 

And tomorrow's pressing onward 

In the footsteps of to-day, 
And to-day will soon be fleeting. 

Nevermore to cross our way. 

.We are living in the present, 

And can ne'er recall the past ; 
No use grieving over follies — 

Only let their lessons last. 



16 TANGLED EHYMES. 

Year by year we see more clearly 
There are things we may not know ; 

There are depths we may not fathom, 
Heights to which we may not go. 

Vain it is to measure problems 
Which we cannot solve below ; 

Better far to sip the pleasures 
As they swiftly come and go. 

Just to take things as we find them ; 

Make the most of what they are ; 
Problems grasp that we can handle ; 

Never soar above too far ; 

Keep in mind this earth was moving 
Long before our natal morn, 

And will still go whirling onward 
Just the same when we are gone ; 

That the world we cannot manage. 
Though it may seem out of gear, — 

These are lessons we are learning 
One by one and year by year. 



TANGLED SHYMES. 17 



HAVE AX OBJECT. 



rUHERE'S a rare old eastern fable — 
J[ The wisdom of which you'll find — 
By some turn of fortune's table 
Brought oft before my mind : 

A frightened hare — runs the story — 
Pursued by a greyhound fleet, 

'Neath trees so old and hoary 
Pressed on with flying feet, 

Till pursuit was given over. 

And the greyhound paused for breath, 
While the hare 'neath friendly cover 

Sped on from a cruel death. 

A woodsman rallied the laggard 



Who failed in the wild-wood chase, 
5 naught but a worthless braggart, 
Since the hare had won the race : 



18 TA^ a L ED li H YMES. 

But the loser answered his mocking 
With these words of wisdom fine 

( For hounds are prone to talking 
In that far off eastern clime :) 

"You should not judge our powers 

By this race through the tangled green ; 

If an equal prize were ours, 
A difference you'd have seen : 

" For I ran just for a dinner, 

It was all I had in view ; 
While he, should he prove the winner, 

Would ransom his life he knew." 

Now the moral is clear, my reader, 
As clear as the deep blue sky : 

In the race you may be a leader 
If you place your standard high. 

The object for which you're living. 
More than your native fleetness. 

Will honest power be giving, 
And lead to life's completeness. 



TANGLED BHYMES. 19 



LOVE AMONG THE ANGELS, 



"LXJHAT is love among the Angels? 
Tell me true how Angels love, 
You who paint to us poor sinners 
All the garnered joys above. 

For we have a way of loving, 

Though it's crude and old we know, 

Yet since Adam ate the apple, 
It has served us here below. 

And, with reverence, let me say 
That I like this simple bliss. 

And I wouldn't give a nickel 
For a better love than this. 

So you tell, and tell me truly. 

For I really want to hear. 
How do angels tell the story 
'That we mortals find so dear? 



TA NG L ED R U ) M ES. 

Do they press tlie lips as waiiuly ? 

Is the hand-chisp just as tight? 
Is the kiss as sweetly thrilling ? 

Are those angel eyes so bright ? 

Can they feel the bosom's heaving, 
While the heart beats wild and free ? 

Is this love among the angels ? 
Praving saint, come answer me. 

If it isn't, then I tell you. 
Yes, I tell you fair and true, 

If I reach that golden portal 
And am bid to enter through. 

It will be when evening shadows 
Make the heavenly gateway dim ; 

And I know a little angel 

That rU try to smuggle in — 

Just a little human angel. 

Without wings or plumage rare. 

But with all her mortal garments. 
And a rosebud in her hair. 



TANGLED IIHYMES. 21 

And when we have passed St. Peter, 
And have gained the golden street, 

By the groups of singing angels 
We shall haste with eager feet, 

Till we gain some quiet corner, 

Where the stars forget to shine ; 
Then while hearts beat on together, 

With her dainty hand in mine, 

We will listen to the music. 

To its swelling soft and low, 
But we'll never raise our voices — 

For they'd find us then, you know. 



22 TANGLED BHYMES. 



SUNNY PLACES 



TJLJHEN a shadow falls around us, 
And all lovely light effaces, 
We should never be discouraged, 
Life has many sunny places. 

Oh ! such bright and sunny places, 
Scattered all along life's highway. 

Where the light of love streams on us 
From each widely open by-way. 

We should never count the shadows 

Which our own cold hearts have brought us, 

But with grateful hearts, and happy, 
Mind the lesson life has taught us — 

That we may grope on in darkness, 

Slowly on, with somber faces, 
Or, by hastening through the shadows. 

Linger long in sunny places. 



TANGLED lillYMRS. 23 



A HEART SONG. 



rnHEY say there's a purer, better life, 
[^ Than the one we're living here, 
With never a taint of sin or strife. 

And never a cause of fear ; — 
But, oh ! my heart will fondly cling 

To the joys of life below ; 
And not for life where the angels sing. 
Would I change the joys I know. 

We're told there's a home of eternal joy 

In that spirit land above. 
Where the hopes we cherish have no alloy, 

In that home of boundless love ; — 
But, oh ! my heart will fondly cling 

To the joys of life below ; 
And not for life where the angels sing. 

Would I change the joys I know. 



24 TANGLED RHYMES. 

For I see not clearly beyond the grave — 
I know there are pleasures here — 

And I'd rather a world of troubles brave 
Than enter the solemn bier : 

For, oh ! my heart will fondly cling- 
To the joys of life below ; 

And not for life where the angels sing, 
^^'ould I change the joys 1 know. 



^f^^^ 
4 

A 






TANGLED RHYMES. 25 



UNCLE SAM'S BIRTHDAY 



UTJLJHAT means this stir in Rome" today? 
This dread and dire commotion ? 
This surging tumult, spreading out 
From ocean unto ocean ? 

The boom of cannon, roll of drum, 
The small boy's dreadful clatter? 

What horrid fate's upon us now — 
O, tell me what's the matter ? 

Does foreign foe invade our land 
In search of blood and plunder, 

To hunt us down with sword and brand, 
And scare us with his thunder? 

Or have those Redskins gone again 
From starving reservations. 

With blood and fire and tomahawks. 
To hunt for scalps and rations ? 



26 TANGLED RHYMES. 

Or has a Ba"bel broken loose 

Within our quiet border, 
To stir up all this din and strife, 

Against all law and order ? 

" Tut ! tut ! my son, there's nothing wrong, 
No dreaded foe's approaching. 

No Redskin band with bloody hand 
Upon our homes encroaching : 

'Tis only Uncle's birthday, lad, 
That's why we make a noise ; 

For Uncle Sam is youthful yet, 
And so we all are boys. 

'Tis little more than a hundred years 
Since the hero came to life, 

So you see he's only a stripling yet 
In all this din and strife. 

He's lusty, though, and growing fast. 
And strong beyond his years ; 

He's heard the sound of guns before — 
No smoke and noise he fears. 



TANGLED BHYMES. 27 

At Yorktown once he took the sword 
Of George the Third, you know, 

Who owned the youngster struggled well, 
And struck a weighty blow. 

At Chippewa and Lundy's Lane 

He proved his mettle good ; 
And down by the Crescent City, there, 

Among the cotton stood. 

And when those sun-tanned Mexic boys 

Were wanting northern land, 
He clutched his trusty sword again 

And crossed the Rio Grande ; 

And Santa Anna thought the price 

Of northern lands was high ; 
And though he liked the property 

He couldn't afford to buy. 



He had his family quarrel once 

As other people do ; 
Concerning this, I only say, 

He brought his standard througl 



28 TANGLE!) liHYMES. 

And now he stands in peace today, 
With laurels on his brow, 

The strongest youth the w^orld can boast- 
To whom the nations bow : 

And so, you see, 'tis proper, quite. 

We celebrate today. 
With music such as heroes know, 

Who win the deathless bay. 




TANGLED RHYMES. 29 



^DOES IT?-^ 



TJLJHERE the land and waters meet, 
We two roamed in converse sweet, 
Conning love's sweet lesson o'er — • 
All its soft delicious lore — 
Learning of it more and more, 
On a summer day of yore. 

Now we roam no more together 
In the bright and sunny weather. 
For my feet have gone astray 
Since that sunny, summer day, 
When we wandered down the way 
Where the broken sea-weeds lay. 

And I wonder does your heart 
Into quicker beating start, 
When your cheek is softly fanned 
By the breezes o'er the sand, 
Where we wandered hand in hand- 
Where the waters meet the land ? 



TANGLKB RHYMES. 



RETROSPECTION. 



T pOOKING back along the pathway 

Which we've traveled through the years; 
Noting all the woes and heart-aches, 
All the bitter pains and tears ; 

Living o'er those boyish fancies, 
All those dreams of fame again, 

Saddened now by one low murmur. 
Softly sighing "might have been." 

For those dreams and aspiration, 
Hopes and longings deep and true. 

Were as chaff before the whirlwind. 
When life's stormy tempests blew ; 

And their wrecks are lying scattered 
All along life's backward way — 

Stranded hopes and broken idols. 
Which we cherished day by day. 



TANGLED RHYMES. 31 

Yet we feel that from these losses 

Better hopes were born to live ; 
Purer dreams and aspirations, 

More refined than youth can give ; 

And from out those shattered ruins 

Flowers of promise bud and blow, 
And our hearts are purer, better, 

For the sorrows that we know : 

For they teach us many lessons — 

Lessons conned through bitter tears — 

That shall keep us from the shallows, 
And the reefs, in coming years. 

So we feel that on life's voyage 

Much that's truly good and grand 
May be traced to broken idols, 

Lying shattered on the strand. 



32 TANGLED RHYMES. 



WATCHINd THE .SHIPS 



QH! Lady fair, 
(q With sunny hair, 
Go back no thoughts to-day 
To a far otf time 
In a golden cHme, 
In the beauteous month of May ? 

When side by side, 
By the heaving tide, 

Where scented breezes play. 
With silent lips. 
We watched the ships 

Go sailing down the bay? 

For lips are dumb 

\Mien sweet thoughts come- 
And sweet were ours that day, 

On the shining strand, 

In that summer land, 
In the beauteous month of May. 



TANGLED RHYMES. 

But love can speak 
From blushing cheek, 

And eyes of heavenly blue ; 
And blosom's swell 
The tale would tell, 

Though lips no language knew. 

! had I told 
The story old, 

Fair lady, then, to you. 
No ocean wide. 
With restless tide, • 

Would roll between us two. 

But were it so, 

1 do not know 
If it were well, or ill ; 

1 can but feel 
Sweet longings steal 
Through all my being still. 

And years I'd give 

Could I but live 
Once more that happy day. 

On the golden strand, 

In that sunny land, 
In the beauteous month of May. 



81 TAA'GLED RHYMES. 



B EEC HER 



iNCK more the bells on a nation's ear, 

With mournful cadence swelling, 
Of a people's loss and a victor's gain 
Their solemn tale are telling. 

They tell a tale of hearts that bleed. 
Of hopes that are buried low, 

Of anguish deep for the loved one gone 
Which only the stricken know. 

They speak to us of a life work done — 
A work that was all complete. 

Wrought out in lo\'e for the good of man, 
And laid at the Master's feet — 

A work that shall reach through ages vast, 
Growing ever more bright and grand, 

With its holy luster spreading out 
To the gates of the promised land. 



TANQLED RHYMES. 

And all the laurels that mortal hands 
Can weave for that gifted brow, 

And all the tributes a people bring, 
They are vain and worthless now; 

But with trembling hand we twine this wreath 
For the grave of the hero dead, 

And drop it down with a nation's tears 
On that hero's lonely bed. 




TANGLED RHYMES. 



CASTLES IN THE AIR 



n^HROUGH this busy life of ours, 
_[ 'Mong its thorns or springing flowers, 
Oh, such joy, ecstatic, rare, 
Building " Castles in the air !" 

From the lazy tramping drone, 
To the monarch on his throne, 
Rich and poor, and high and low, 
O'er this world where'er we go, 

All are looking on ahead, 

By their fancies fondly led, 

On through dreamy realms so fair. 

Up to " Castles in the air." 

One sees food and clothing vast. 
And his tramping all is past ; 
And the other, kingdoms won 
In all lands beneath the sun. 



TANGLED BhYMES. 87 

And we look beyond the gloom 
Of the damp and chilly tomb, 
To a home without a care, 
Bright, eternal, in the air. 

From the redman, homeward bound 
To his happy hunting-ground, 
Through Mahomet's wandering school, 
Where the Koran gives the rule. 

Up to favored Brooklyn Height, 
Where a Beecher sheds the light, 
Leading on through pastures rare. 
Up to " Castles in the air." 

All expect to find above 
What their hearts have learned to love. 
Well, I hope, beyond the river 
Shutting out this life forever, 

That our castles may be stronger, 
And may give us shelter longer, 
Than the ones we're watching here 
Falling round us year by year. 

And Fve often noticed this : 
That we many troubles miss. 
And our lives are fashioned fair, 
Bv our " Castles in the air." 



38 



TAXf^LhD h'HYMES. 



So well build our castles high, 
Build them to the blue domed sky 
Build our castles though they fall- 
Better so than none at all. 

Though our lives be bright or sad, 
Checkered o'er with good or bad, 
Oh, 'tis bliss beyond compare, 
Building " Castles in the air !" 




TANGLED RHYMES. 89 



QUESTIONINGS. 



ULJHEN this fair, brief life is o'er, 
When this body lives no more. 
When I pass death's gloomy shore — 
What then ? 

When those clustered round my bed. 
Through their tears have sadly said- 
Murmured softly — "he is dead" — 
What then ? 

Is this death the way we rise 
To a home beyond the skies, 
Where the blest one never dies — 
Is it? 

Is this life but to prepare 
For a beauteous mansion there, 
Filled with all the heart calls fair — 
Is it? 



40 TANGLED BHYMES. 

Shall we gather those we love 
In that Eden-land above, 
And in joy forever rove — 
Shall we ? 

Shall we press the lips in Heaven 
Which on earth to ours are given, 
When these bonds of life are riven— 
Shall we ? 

Can I solve the mystery out ? 
Can I pierce the veil of doubt 
Which enwraps these thoughts about- 
Can I? 

Can I find some one below 
Who to me the way will show. 
How the doubting heart may know — 
Can I? 




TANGLED RHYMES. 41 



ONLY THREE. 



r sit alone in my room tonight 

With a pictured group before me, 
And thoughts of a happy springtime gone 
Come slowly stealing o'er me. 

Five happy faces look in mine, 
With bright eyes full of glee ; 

But, oh ! how sadly comes the thought, 
Tonight we're only three. 

I think how bright the world spread out 
In that glorious May-time weather, 

As we stood with eager, waiting feet 
Upon life's verge together. 

What dreams of coming joys were ours, 
What hopes and plans we cherished 

That since along life's rugged way 
In silent gloom have perished ; 



42 TANGLED RHYMES. 

For one soon found the thorny way 

Too rough for further going, 
And o'er her silent form tonight 

The winter winds are blowing. 

And now that other, who so long 

Has lingered by the river. 
With eyes that bravely faced the gloom 

Has closed those eyes forever. 

And, oh ! how hard to reconcile 

Dreams of that sunny May, 
With thoughts of that worn and wasted form 

That lies so still to-day. 

Five years, my classmates, hardly brings 
What youthful fancy painted ; 

Oh ! could we then have raised the veil 
Our hearts had surely fainted. 

As I put away that pictured group 
This thought comes over me ; 

Are we still five as on that May, 
Or are we— onlv three i 



TANGLED lillYMKS. 43 



THE SAME OLD STORY. 



n^ 



HE same old story told last night 

In accents low and sweet, 
While the smiling moon flung down her light 

Around your happy feet. 

Yes, just the story, short and old. 

But, oh ! so very dear, 
That's told in every land and clime 

When rosy lips are near — 

The self-same story told of yore. 

In whispers soft and low, 
Beneath a palm-trees spreading shade, 

In Eden, lono; a^o : 

The same old story that was told 

To Grecian Hellen fair ; 
And Highland Mary heard that tale 

On banks of bonny Ayr. 



U TANGLED RHYMES. 

And while this world goes round and round 

To give us light and shade, 
And waters flow and grasses grow, 

And flowers bloom and fade, 

That tale will e'er be told anew, 

And ever seem as dear. 
When hearts are light and eyes are bright 

And rosy lips are near. 




TANGLED EHYMES. 45 



ONLY LIFE. 



iNLY a dream of the morrow, 

To strengthen the heart to-day ; 
Only a hope of the future, 
To Ughten the weary way : 

Only a ray of the sunshine 

We're longing to call our own ; 

Only a few stray flowerets 
Along the pathway strown : 

Only a sip of the nectar 

Would fill our lives with bliss ; 

Only a gleam of a better, 
A purer way than this : 

Only a sweet, eager longing. 

For heights that we cannot reach ; 

Only a sad treasured lesson, 

Which naught but the past can teach 



46 TANGLED RHYMES. 

Only some sacred memories, 
Kept green by our falling tears, 

Wafted back to our hearts again 
From the dead and buried years 

Only a light in the valley, 
Revealing a home above ; 

Only a golden gateway. 

That opes to the key of love. 




TANGLED RHYMES. 47 



BY THE RIO GRANDE. 



I 



stood where the Rockies' gloomy heights 

Frown down on that sterile land 
That stretches away in a barren waste 
Along by the Rio Grande. 

Above me the snow-clad mountain peaks 
Lined clear on the western sky : 

Below me, the dreamy Mexic town 
And the river rolling by : 

Around me, the sage and cotton wood 

And stunted cactus growing : 
And o'er it all the mountain breeze 

With cooling freshness blowing. 

I'd wandered where some clustered graves, 
Heaped up in the drifting sand, 

Told some had paused in the race for gold 
In that rugged mountain land ; 



48 TANGLICD RHYMES. 

And I read on slabs erected there 
By awkward but friendly hands, 

The names of those who had given all 
For rest in those lonely sands. 

At length I paused by the side of one, 
Whose inscription, rude and deep, 

Told a tale to me of him who lay 
In his final awful sleep, 

" Russell Murry, aged twenty-four ; 

Was shot by an unknown hand :" 
This the inscription that I read that day 

By the rolling Rio Grande. 

I read far more than these brief words ; 

For a picture rose to view, 
I saw the spires of a distant town 

Which the sleeping miner knew. 

Down at the foot of a grassy hill 
Where the evening shadows play, 

I saw a farm-house nestling there 
With its roof-tree old and gray; 

I saw once more the parting scene, 
A mother's sobs and tears — 

The aching hearts that are aching still 
Through all these weary years. 



TANGLED RHYMES, 49 

Then the days of anxious waiting, 

Till the first glad letter came ; 
Oh ! such words of tender greeting, 

Written o'er that well-loved name. 

Then the dreary months that followed, 

Sometimes bringing news of him, 
Often only pain and longing. 

When those watching eyes grew dim. 

Then the awful void, the waiting 

For the word that never came ; 
Then a formal note of horror. 

Written o'er a stranger's name. 

Oh ! the breaking hearts that read it, 
And the hopes that died that day — 

Buried deep with the loved one, lying 
In that grave so far away. 

As all this tale rose up to view, 

What wonder with tender hand 
I straightened the slab of that lonely grave 

By the rolling Rio Grande. 



50 TANGLED BHYMES. 



SHERIDAN. 



OLDIER, rest! the battle's done: 
Peace be thine : the victory's won. 
Though a nation now may weep thee, 
It were wrong for us to keep thee ; 
For beyond death's mystic vale, 
Thou hast heard the well known hail ; 
Felt the welcome, warm and true. 
Of thy gallant boys in blue ; — 
Clasped the hands of those who died 
Fighting bravely by thy side. 
When, amidst war's shot and shell. 
Freedom's banner rose and fell, 
And we know the rapturous thrill 
All thy soldier heart must fill. 
As they close their ranks around 
The hero-leader thev have found. 



TANGLED BHYMES. 61 

Laurel wreath we twine to-day 
For our soldier passed away, 
And our humble tributes bring 
Unto thee, our battle king. 
Dearer still thy name will grow 
As the years shall come and go ; 
And when ages long have rolled, 
This people shall thy memory hold — 
Millions now unborn shall thrill 
At the name of "Little Phil." 




52 TANGLED RHYMES. 



A MEMORY. 



jNLY a memory, tender and sweet, 
) Set to the music, soft and low, 
Which the whispering breezes bear 
From the vale of the long: aofo. 

And yet my heart-chords thrill again, 
With all the olden pleasure, 

As memory shows this hidden page 
Among her hoarded treasure. 

Ay, guard it well, that golden spot 
Upon time's rolling river ; 

For, oh ! the joy it brought to me 
Has left my heart forever. 



i% 



TANGLED HHYMES. 53 



CONTEST ENDED. 



V|/HE race is run, the work is done ; 
1 I stand in the gloaming now, 
While the cooHng breeze from the drooping trees 
Sweeps o'er my heated brow. 

The race is run, the prizes won, 

But they fell to other hands : 
From the course I go, with no gains to show 

For the race o'er the heated sands — 

No garlands gay, no drooping bay, 

No sign of the world's renown ; 
I tried in the race for a forward place, 

But a part of the time I was down. 

Though sorely beat by lighter feet. 

And oft from the pathway cast, 
I held my way through the heated day. 

Nor tripped those running past. 



54 TANGLED RHYMES. 

So with conscience clear, I'm standing here, 
Where the cooling south wind blows : 

I did my best, among the rest, 
And struggled in at the close. 

Though no Triumph gay, in the olden way, 

Shall ever sound my praise, 
Nor marble rise to the vaulted skies. 

To tell where my frame decays. 

Yet I know that some, when the final drum 

Shall summon us all to meet, 
Will render thanks for the clownish pranks 

That made me so easy beat. 






TANGLED RHYMES. 55 



MEMORIAL 



XJLJE gather once more with tributes of flowers 
To wreathe o'er the graves of these heroes of 
ours, 

With hearts that are thankful for all that they won ; 
For a country the grandest that's under the sun — 

From Canada's snows to the Mexican wave 
The sun never looks on a cowering slave ; 

But eyes are misty with sorrowful tears 

As thoughts travel back o'er the swift rolling years, 

And memory brings sad scenes to our view. 
When were mustered together the brave and true. 

Those parting scenes ! how they rise before us, 
Brought back by the thoughts that come surging 
o'er us — 



66 TAISIGLED BHYMES. 

The closely clasped hand and the tear-wet cheek, 
The anguish too deep for the lips to speak, 

The long-drawn kiss and the last embrace, 
The lingering look at the well loved face : 

Then some went marching away in the blue, 
And some stood waiting with hearts as true — 

Yes, waiting and trusting through the years, 
Though hearts were breaking with anguish and fears. 

And those who were waiting, perhaps, suffered more 
Than they who the heat of the conflict bore ; 

For brave hearts fighting, where the sun stands high 
In the clear azure depth of that southern sky, 

In the field of action found relief ; 

In every victory they drowned their grief ; 

For they felt that it shortened their time to roam — 
That it brought them a little nearer to home. 

Those battle scenes ! how they backward come, 
With the stirring fife and beat of the drum ; 

What scenes of anguish, of suffering and woe, 
'Neath the scorching sun in that long ago — 



TANGLED BHYMES. 57 



The clasp of hands in the din and strife, 
The last fond message for waiting wife, 

The glazing eye of a comrade true. 
The warm blood dveins: the Union blue, 



The brave eyes turning to Freedom's flag, 
With a glance of scorn for the Rebel rag ; 

And then those graves which we dug at dawn, 
Where lie the fruits of the battle storm — 

Where many a brave lies low to-day 
In those unmarked graves so far away. 

And as we gather with flowers and tears. 
To garland the dead of those sad years, 

We try to think what might have been lost; 
But hearts turn back to the awful cost — 

For hearts are stubborn things to guide, 
Where love and duty are sundered wide. 

We know we've a noble land today, 
From the surf of Maine to 'Frisco bay ; 

From where Niagara's waters leap. 

To the far-off shores of the Mexic deep ; 



58 TANGLED RHYMES. 

We know that every soul is free, 
However dark his skin may be ; 

We're thankful, too — or we try to be — 
For the gift that made a nation free ; 

But our tears will drown the thanks we'd say, 
For we only think of our dead to-day. 

We think of a form in gallant blue, 

And treasure the glance of eyes we knew ; 

And almost feel, though we know it's wrong — 
But ties of love they bind so strong — 

We almost feel that we'd give the gain 
To look in those well-known eyes again, 

And feel the clasp of a hand once more, 
As firm and true as in days of yore. 

We scatter flowers ; 'tis all we can give. 
To show they still in our memory live. 

Flowers and tears for those who rest 
'Neath the skies they loved the best ; 

Tears and flowers for those who lie 
'Neath that far-off southern sky. 



TANGLED RHYMES. 



THE WANDERER'S TALE. ] 



n^HANK you, sir, for your kindness,- 
1 For food and shelter here ; 
But most of all, for sympathy, 
For friendly words and cheer. 

For your food can only lengthen 

A life of bitter woe, 
But pity and kindness bring me 

Bright pictures of long ago. 

'Tis a lonely life, this tramping — 

An awful life I've led ; 
If I could but rest me sometimes, 

But O, this pain in my head 

It urges me on forever. 

Through all the weary years. 

I'm somewhat discouraged, to-day, sir, 
You'll excuse these foolish tears — 



TANQLED RHYMES. 

Perhaps they will make me better, 

And ease this dreary pain, 
That has, for these twenty years. 

Been eating my heart and brain. 

Perhaps this glimpse of home-life, 
With its quiet, peace, and rest. 

Will stitie the bitter anger, 

That's raging within my breast. 

I'm getting old and feeble. 

This tramping will soon be o'er ; 

How wrong my craving for vengeance, 
I never felt before. 

I haven't the strength I had 

In the spring of sixty-one, 
When I donned my country's blue, 

And marched 'neath a southern sun. 

My stor}' ? yes, I will tell it, 

A dreary one to hear. 
But you'll learn why I talk so strange, 

And why my head is queer. 

I'll draw you a picture of home — 

My home in the long ago. 
Ere this pain came into my head. 

Or feet had wandered so. 



TANGLED RHYMES. 61 

In a green and sloping valley, 

Where Saco's waters glide, 
Fringed round with shady woodlands, 

Where squirrels leap and hide, 

Stands a dainty vine-wreathed cot ; 

Tall elms droop above it. 
Flowers and birds make paradise — 

Nature seems to love it. 

In the door-way stands a vision. 

Such as poet eyes may view 

In the land of dream and fancy ; 

Such as earth gives but a few — 

Lithesome figure, falling ringlets, 
O'er a brow of chastened white ; 

Eyes as blue as heaven's ether ; 
O, so soft, and warm, and bright ! 

White robe falling, soft and fieecy, 
From her dainty, winsome height, 

Makes her seem far less a woman 
Than an angel of the light. 

God ! I've learned, by years of anguish, 

She was nothing but a woman : 
All her fragile beauty hiding 

Heart so very, very human. 



62 TANGLED RHYMES. 

But I loved her with a passion 
Such as few can understand. 

From the first sweet moment's clasping 
Of her dainty girUsh hand. 

And when at the altar standing 
I could claim that hand as mine, 

All my life seemed turned to sunshine, 
And my blood seemed turned to wine. 

'Twas such ecstatic joy to live — 

Just to live alone for her. 
In that little vine-wreathed cot 

Where the tlowers and sunshine were. 

Then upon the tainted south-wind came 

The boom of a Rebel gun. 
Whose shot was aimed at a nation's life — 

Of that nation I was one. 

I am proud to-day, though it cost me all — 
But left me a heart to bleed — 

That I answered at once my countr)''s call 
In her hour of greatest need. 

The smoke of Beauregard's cannon 
Still hung over Sumter's wall, 

When under our starr)- banner 
I answered mv country's call. 



TAliQLED RHYMES. 63 

A clasping of hands at the dawning, 

The press of a tear-wet cheek, 
The kiss that went with me to battle — 

Of these it is useless to speak. 

And I need not recount the struggle. 

Its varied scti.v-S you know ; 
I tried to do my duty ever, 

And kept my face to the foe. 

Two years of fighting passed, 

Her letters, though so rare, 
Were better to strengthen me 

Than all my southern fare : 

And often I pressed to my lips 

A ringlet of golden hair. 
And upward her name was wafted 

On the wings of a soldier's prayer. 

When the letters ceased I wondered, 

But never a doubt crept in : 
I watched and waited and saddened — 

But she was free from sin. 

I'd sooner have doubted Heaven — 

Indeed, I believe I did : 
For I thought that the hand of Fate 

Was keeping her letters hid. 



64 TA NG LKD EH YMES. 

And SO I never forgot to write, 

I still believed her true, 
The soldier's prayer was still the same, 

That ringlet 'neath the blue. 

A year of agony passed — 
A year of torture — and then 

I changed my active life 
For a Rebel prison pen. 

I cannot picture to you 
My life in that filthy den ; 

'Tis a blot on the human race 

That our captors there were men. 

But I lived through those awful days, 
Kept hold on reason and life, 

Never lost faith in my fellowman. 
Nor trust in that absent wife. 

And at last an exchange was made ; 

I drank in God's pure air : 
Never before, it seemed to me. 

Had the earth looked half so fair. 

And yet I was only a wreck, at best, 
So worn and sick, but free ; 

Yes, free to seek my home again — 
No more of battle for me. 



TANaLEI) RHYMES. 65 

O, how my heart went leaping forth, 
At the thought of home once more ! 

How I pictured o'er and o'er again 
My wife at the cottage door ;— 

The blue eyes, filled with tears for me. 

Look out o'er the valley way, 
With trustful hope that never fails, 

Though pained by the long delay ; 

And then at my coming the eager start, 

That speaks her glad surprise ; 
The heaving bosom, trembling lips. 

The love in her tender eyes. 

It seemed to me that all the time 

Of the years I'd been away, 
Was yet as naught to the dreary time 

That now to our meeting lay. 

But time rolls on though hearts may break, 

So the journey had an end— 
My mind will fail me when I try 

To remember all, my friend. 

I know I stole up the shaded walk 

To a closed forsaken door. 
From which the light of home had fled, 

And would never greet me more. 



66 TANGLED RHYMES. 

I learned my wife had fled away 
With one 1 had known from youth : 

On whom I would have staked my life, 
Without a doubt of his truth. 

For many weeks I knew no more. 

But tossed on a fever-bed ; 
Then struggled back to life once more, 

With this awful pain in my head. 

And then I wandered away from there — 
That vale by the Saco's side. 

I've sought for them through all the years. 
In my ramblings far and wide, 

And I've always hoped to meet him. 
Stand face to face sometime, 

And deal out a retribution 
In proportion to his crime. 

1 've forgiven her ; but as for him — 
They tell me there's one above 

W^ho notes the smallest sparrow's fall, 
And holds us all in love. 

I can't understand — its my head, 
It feels so dizzy and dim — 

Why this punishment falls on me. 
Instead of fallins on him. 



TANGLED lillYMKS. 67 

I suppose we shall stand sometime 

At a great white throne afar, 
And each receive a sentence fair 

At that dread tribunal bar : 

But it seems to me now, sometimes. 

My poor head wanders so, 
The reward to sin is better far 

Than to virtue, here below ; 

And I don't think I want that Heaven, 
Though its beauties shine so rare. 

Unless in the happy gloaming 
I can clasp her hand up there — 

Her hand with the stain washed from it. 

As pure, and fair, and white. 
As the hand I held so proudly 

On that far-off bridal night. 

For I know I should wander there. 

As 1 have in this sad life, 
With this awful pain in my head. 

For a lost and sinful wife. 

I thank you again for your kindness ; 

This pain seems to urge me on : 
I'm somewhat rested and strengthened, 

And so I'll have to be gone. 



68 T A Mi LED RHYMES. 



THE BROOKLET'S SONG 

TO THE 

LITTLE GIRL. 



JUS r listen now while I repeat 
The song the brooklet sang so sweet. 
Indeed it did, you needn't smile, 
Brooklets sing just once in a while — 
Not music only, I mean rhymes — 
They sing real songs to me sometimes. 

And brooklets have queer stories too ; 
Did they never tell their tale to you ? 
I doubt you know^ their language then, 
It is'nt like the speech of men : 
First it will murmur, low and sweet. 
Creeping along beside my feet ; 



TANGLED BHTME8. 

Then it will shout in merry glee, 
Frolicking o'er a sunken tree ; 
It has a tripping, joyous sound. 
Leaping along the stony ground : 
These sounds combine in some odd way 
To form the song I heard that day. 

They don't make words like ours, you know 
With their vowel sounds that puzzle so, 
I can't tell how the thought's expressed ; 
Perhaps the meaning's only guessed. 
The music comes, you've heard that, sure, 
It sounds so ringing bright and pure : 

Into my soul there seems to creep 
A language I try in vain to keep : 
It leaves a tale remembered well. 
Though how 'twas told 'tis hard to tell. 
Sometimes the music brings no song 
Though I may listen all day long. 

But almost always when I go 
Where those green willows droop so low. 
And lie down there on the velvet grass 
Close where the waters have to pass, 
And close my eyes and listen long. 
The dancing brooklet sings a song. 



70 TANGLED RHYMES. 

Asleep ! why you're a real mean thing, 
If I was I couldn't hear it sing. 
Just listen now, I'll prove you're wrong. 
For I remember all that song. 
This was the brooklet's song that day, 
I heard it plain from where I lay ; 
Not the words, but the meaning came, 
I understood it just the same : — 

" I wind about, and in and out, 
With here a blossom sailing, 

And here and there a lusty trout. 
And here and there a grayling, 

" And here and there a foamy flake 

Upon me as I travel. 
And many a silvery waterbrake 

Above the golden gravel, 

'• And draw them all along, and flow 
To join the brimming river, 

For men may come and men may go 
But I go on forever." 



TANGLED RHYMES. 71 

Heard it before ? well, what of it ? 
I think 'twas sung because I love it. 
I didn't say it 77iade the song, 
I wouldn't say that, because it's wrong ; 
Now you're laughing, well, I don't care, 
Though I don't think it's really fair. 
For the brooklet sang it, every word — 
Or else I never could have heard. 



Ac. 



ilBRARY OF CONGRESS 

016 112 3 40 7 m^ 



